Alexander the Greedy
by Kazakh Doom
Summary: Set on Sfaíra...in its sandalpunk age.
1. Chapter 1

This is Sfaíra. Here, the Greek nation is always in a primitive state of development. Meanwhile, greater stateless societies grow, breed, and forge scary machines of war all around them. And now, in ancient times, for many Greek officials, this will soon mean a bid to conquer them all.

* * *

This is the Macedonian Empire. The Aegean Ocean surrounds it. For once, the Greek nation has a stable foothold in this world. By its enemies' leave, or even not, it'll stay this way for a long time...

The House of Argead rules Macedonia, and has for quite a while. They're hardly likely to abdicate anytime soon. Alas, progressives often fear for the country's self-esteem. They long to expand...

Throughout the Aegean Ocean, there are islands. They're mountainous, and grape-infested.

The cities are white. They're guarded and protected by warriors clad in helmets, carrying shields, and wielding spears.

The sun sets over Pella. The evening tide rises, over the shore.

This is the imperial palace. Upstairs, a legend is in gestation...

Prince Alexander, a pubescent child, sleeps, exhausted after a hard day's...work. He's blond, and hardly ever keeps any meat on his bones. He looks like he could be a big hit with the ladies. Too bad most girls his age haven't started their pubescence yet...

Through the palace, an Indian python slithers. It senses Alexander's fear. It crawls towards his chambers. It finds them, and slithers right on in.

Alexander sleeps. Tonight, he's investing in his deepest sex fantasies, for the first time...

Above his head, the snake is atop Alexander's headboard. He's got Alexander in a tight spot...and he doesn't even know it.

Alexander opens his eyes. He can't see anything...but he senses something. He strikes a match, and lights a candle.

And he sees the snake. He screams, and runs outside, onto a balcony.

The snake only sits there, on his headboard, and flicks his tongue. On Alexander's bedside table, the candle still burns...


	2. Chapter 2

In the palace gardens, pythons, and other snakes, slither here and there. Most are big, and all are exotic.

There's a statue of Dionysus. Snakes slither, rest, and drop from it, too.

There's also a statue of the Baracus, a servant of Dionysus. He resembles a panther. He wears a collar made of gold. Or rather, it would be gold, if it weren't made of stone...

Atop the Baracus's back, Queen Olympias rests, in her silk lingerie. Her snakes crawl all over her. In pure ecstasy, she raises her foot to the heavens. A cobra crawls up it, and caps it.

She laughs. "O look! I've made the Bronze Snake! I can now hereby heal everyone who's been bitten!"

Alexander, her stepson, and the crown prince of Macedonia, slithers in...no play on words intended. He sees all the snakes...and stays where he is.

He calls for his stepmother. Moments pass before Olympias realizes she's being summoned.

The snakes clear a path, to a gong on the wall. Wary of the snakes, Alexander creeps down the path they've made. He takes up a mallet...just as soon as a certain cobra has abandoned it, chambers, and strikes the gong.

The snakes atop the Baracus abandon their Queen. Olympias sighs, sits up, yawns, and turns to her stepson.

Alexander gapes at his stepmother's bare rack. Olympias gapes, hides behind the sculpture, and comes back out, wearing a tunic. At her feet, the snakes clear a path.

"Sorry, Alexander." She yawns. "Didn't hear you come in."

Alexander laughs indifferently, and acknowledges all the snakes that surround them. "I beg to differ."

Here, Alexander complains, once again, about his new stepmother's fondness for snakes. He hates it when they break into his room at night. As much as he doesn't mind sleeping on the balcony outside his bedroom...he's worried that the snakes will soon try to colonize THAT, too. He's also concerned that most snakes are solitary, and that his stepmother seems to be breeding them as if they were shad.

Olympias purrs, and caresses a python that she wears around her neck, like a scarf. The snake seems to be purring, too...

Alexander hates this. His new stepmother has no respect for her stepson's phobias...

She explains that she's the queen of a nation. And as that queen, she won't be able to influence the nation half as well, if she's not at her emotional best. Her soul demands these snakes just as much as her body demands Dionysus's care. She appreciates her stepson's concern, but she can't change herself for anyone; not even her own kin. She assures Alexander that one day, he'll understand. He'll have to be king one day; and naturally, EVERY ruler has at least one critic for every advocate.

Alexander scoffs. "SOME kingdoms have so many critics, it's a miracle their regicide rate stays low."

"Will there be anything else, dear stepson?"

He shakes his head. "Not at all. I'll just...have to expect to sleep in a different bed each night, I suppose."

She smiles, and pets her snakes. "That's a good boy. Now run along, and go get a local peasant girl pregnant." She smiles, and attends to her snakes. "I have MUCH I need to mull over with the children of Dionysus..."

Alexander sighs, and leaves her stepmother be. He can't stop shaking his head.

"Gee, Dad," he mimics a conversation to his father. "Where did you dig THIS whore up, if not a snake pit in the belly of Bengal? Did you raid a tomb, and resurrect her?"


	3. Chapter 3

Ah, Bactria. It's hardly Achaemenian Persia's most prized possession. But there are mountains and deserts. And in many spots, the glaciers are still frozen.

In herds, wild two-humped camels stampede across the deserts. These majestic creatures, with awkward courtship habits, will help society remember Bactria in the future, when it's renamed to Tajikistan, and annexed by the Russian Empire...

In Dushanbe, the royal palace stands. The walls have horseshoe arches. The blocks have domes. The towers have spires.

Some of the domes are green. Mohammed's time has not yet come, and yet, the royals of Bactria seem to expect his coming... But of course, Jeremiah and Isaiah, in Israel, both anticipated Jesus's coming, in the other world. They were never royals, but as far as a lot of stateless Jews were concerned at the time, they would've made a better sight than Babylonian Nebuchadnezzar, or Persian Xerxes...

The Achaemenian Persian banners hang all over the palace grounds. The royals here only get some of the tax money that the Persian Emperor imposes...but even so, they've done a lot of philanthropic work, here in Dushanbe.

High over it all, a golden eagle flies. The Greeks would see it as Zeus's scout on Earth. He might very well be. As of yet, the eagle may very well be scouting one of the future King Alexander's prospects, far from Macedonia's eastern borders, as they are under his lesser father's rule...

With the walls, there's an herb garden. Here, the salvation of the royals, and some of the servants, is cultivated...

Meet Roxana. She's a maid in the Satrap's household. Out here, she plucks the best of herbs. Lucky for a certain cat in that palace, they're all in season...

Inside, the mashes them up, and mixes them together. She stands over the pot, places her hands together, chants in Bactrian, and blesses the herbal remedy.

She pours a circle of it, around the sick Persian cat. She sits at the cat's head, places her hands together, and chants more. From the ceiling, a ray of sunlight spotlights the ritual. The sun god of the Bactrians is hard at work, helping the cat find balance between good health and evil blight...

Sure as gold, the cat rises. She stands, stretches, and purrs. Roxana smiles, and pets the dear cat. Cats were once gods to the ancient Egyptians; they are also to Bactrians and Persians, too.

Two guards march in, armed with ax-bladed scepters. That cat takes her leave. Frightened, Roxana stands, straightens her raiment, and prepares to bow, as her boss makes his entrance.

The guards form a path, through which the Satrap can walk through. Until the last moment, the two fore guards stand at attention, with two ax-bladed scepters crossed between them.

At last, the Satrap arrives. The guards un-cross the blades, and let him enter. All but two of the guards take their leave.

Here, Roxane bows. Thankfully, her herbal remedy vanished when the cat recovered.

Meet Lord Bessus. He's the master of this palace. He's slightly older than Roxane. And somehow, he has no consort.

He helps her up. She misunderstands, and kisses the ring on his hand; an heirloom of the royal Bactrian family.

"Stand, child," he says. "You've committed no wrong. On the contrary, you've saved my cat."

She rises. He straightens her flowing brown hair for her.

At her youthful age, Roxana's still a long way from Rosario Dawson. Even so, Lord Bessus can't stop looking at his best slave girl.

"He wasn't hard to heal," Roxana tells him. "He just needed help."

"I understand that, child. And don't think I haven't noticed that that's hardly the best thing you've done for me, my family, and my legacy since my staff hired you to manage my most sensitive matters. And for that,"

Without announcing, he slides a special ring on her finger. Roxana gapes, for she knows what it means.

"I need a consort," he tells her. "I've waited a long time for someone perfect to come along. You are far from perfect. But I must make this choice sometime. And for that reason, I know believe, and know, that it's supposed to be you."

"I don't know, my Lord," Roxana says, breathless. "I've never done this before."

"I know. I haven't either. I'm willing to take that risk. You will be my consort. A wedding contract is being drafted, as we speak. There will be a public ceremony...on Friday."

Roxana is still breathless. Needless to say, the Satrap's servants are standing by, in case they'll need to cover her head with a bag anytime soon...


	4. Chapter 4

Once again, the sun has set over Pella. In the palace, most of the adult royals, and their servants, have yet to retire...

Through the city, a black horse runs loose. He fears the night. By day, he seems to fear his shadow even more...

Up in a tall tower, Prince Alexander's chambers are fortified. Alas, seldom enough for their principal occupant these nights...

Best he can, Alexander has snake-proofed his chambers...albeit he's sure there's nothing he can do about his stepmother's favorite pets. They're creepy. He's still not used to them. And to think that she might actually have more sex fantasies about her snakes than she does about Dionysus or her royal husband...

For hours, Alexander stands on the balcony, overlooking the dark city. It's a long way down. He's got no idea how Zeus does it. And Zeus is used to heights that would make Philip II piss in his toga.

Alexander STILL doesn't get the whole "two fathers" concept of religion. He isn't sure why religious men need an imaginary father, if their real one isn't broken...

In the hallways, Olympias's serpents slither. They protect her stepson...whether he wants them to or not.

Below, the queen reveres Dionysus. She's become a wino, and is decorating her own chambers... That'd make a great David Frizzell song, wouldn't it?

A golden eagle goes to roost...on the rails around Alexander's balcony. Alexander jolts, when this happens.

He stands in awe...and a bit of paranoia. He's never seen an eagle up this close before. The eagle seems wary of him...but not maximumly so.

"Zeus?" Alexander tries to talk to the gods. "My king, is that you?"

The eagle looks at Alexander. He sees that as a good omen.

"I trust you know who I am. Listen, my stepmother has this thing about snakes that frightens me. I can't sleep. Will you help me?"

The eagle looks away, closes his eyes, and tries to go to sleep.

Alexander sighs. Great; Zeus won't help him any better than his father will. He starts to go back into his chambers...

Behind him, the eagle wakes, and caws. Alexander turns, and looks him in the eyes.

The eagle's eyes light up, with bright yellow light. So do Alexander's. All around them, time slows. They can't stop staring at one another...

At last, the eagle blinks, and keeps roosting. Alexander feels dizzy. All at once, he doesn't care that snakes will infest his room if he lets down his guard. He lies down, over the balcony surface, and falls asleep.

From the sky, the night beholds the young prince of Macedon. When he wakes, he'll be living in a different world. And as a new boy, he'll meet more than one girl...


	5. Chapter 5

The sun rises over Pella. The future king of Macedon is a brand new boy. He just doesn't know it yet.

Facedown in her bedding, Queen Olympias still sleeps. Her ass is bare. Her arm hangs over the bed. The bottom of a wine glass barely hangs from her hand.

All around her bed, and her chambers, her snakes slumber. They must. It's still too cold for them to be active. Between them, empty wine glasses lie on their sides.

A female king cobra lies near the foot of the bed, coiled. She might've saved a boy's life, last night.

One aching joint at a time, Alexander starts to wake. He's in white briefs. His whole body hurts. It should. For most of the night last night, he slept on solid stone.

He COULD sleep in comfy bedding...if only his stepmother's snakes would quit waking him up each morning. Seriously; civilization has ROOSTERS for that. Also, a rooster makes for a MUCH more convenient, and not to mention humane, vessel for Hermes than a snake does. Snakes are more suited for Hades...even the nonvenomous ones.

Alexander stands. His eyes are still mostly closed. He leans forward, against his own thighs. He feels strange. He thinks that eagle did something to him.

He massages his own lower back...and flinches, big time, when he runs his hand over something that hurts.

It feels like a cut. It's mostly healed, but it's huge. He also thinks it might be snake venom-tainted...

His eyes start to open. He looks around. Best he can figure, he's inside a round-walled fort. The wall is high, and covered in some kind of scale armor. But then, Alexander's heard reports, from nomads in Kenya, of plants that grow in the mountains that yield fruits, that are clad in what looks like green scale armor...

Some of the banquets, here in the palace, serve a fruit that bears much of the description of that fruit. It's called pineapple. Even so, Alexander doesn't hear many reports of such nomads eating what they find, up there in the Kenyan mountains...

Alexander's got no idea where he is...or who brought him here. But he's gotta get back home. At least he can expect meal times there.

It's a long walk to the nearest wall. Even so, he gets there. And he climbs it. It's easy to climb. All he's got to do is use the scales as rungs.

He gets to the top of the wall. Beyond, there are surrounding outer walls. They're all scale-armored, and about as tall as this one. The outer ones might be taller than the one Alexander's on...but not by much.

Alexander's pleased, and a bit convenienced, when the walls seem to squeeze themselves together, as he tries to vault them. He gets to the outer wall this easily, and climbs down it...

Below, a whip-like rope fidgets. It strikes Alexander, from behind, as he climbs down. He screams, as he falls.

Even so, the same rope that doomed him also catches him, by his briefs, and gently lowers him to the ground...which is made of the same material as the floor on the inside of the forts.

Alexander stands, and dusts himself off. "Peculiar contraption. I must tell Father about it when I get home. That fort looks secure enough to keep most of our enemies outside it; pesky Persians included."

Alexander starts to walk away...and stops, once he sees the horror in his situation.

All around him, he sees serpents. They're like the pythons that Apollo slayed. Only these look more exotic than Alexander once imagined.

There are wine glasses, too. They're huge. Alexander could walk into one. They're like caves, and their mouths are epic...

"O Zeus," Alexander whispers. "Where have you taken me?!"

Alexander looks behind him. He starts to realize that the fort he just escaped from isn't a fort at all. It's a sleeping king cobra. And...she just let him go...which doesn't make sense, as much as Alexander hates snakes... His stepmother's, in particular...

Speaking of whom, a titaness slides off a plateau, in the distance. The plateau looks VERY much like a super-sized edition of his stepmother's bed...

Her bare feet hit the floor. Alexander's pretty sure he's seen those lovely feet before.

Their owner sits on the bed foot, stretches, and yawns. She's in the buff. Alexander almost shields his eyes...until he realizes he likes what he sees...

Below, his developing dick hardens. He can't believe he's feeling this way about his Father's wife...

And, she stands. Alexander gapes, as she stands almost a thousand times taller than he would, if he were an adult. She stretches again, up there, and yawns. Alexander has never seen such a camel toe and thigh gap...in the way he does now...

Hypnotically, Alexander takes refuge in a wine glass. For a moment, he forgets how much his stepmother loves wine...

Olympias finishes yawning, and looks around. She sees a wine glass on the floor, smiles, bends over, and grabs it.

Below, Alexander barely grabs the glass rim, as his stepmother lifts him far off the floor, high above the sleeping snakes. Below him, the glass threatens him with its depth. He should be grateful. If he hung over the other side, it would be a straight drop down to the floor...plus the risk of getting stepped on, like a bug, by his stepmother's huge foot...

"Ah, Dionysus," the Queen yawns. "If only you were a man... What magic you could do in my husband's body..." She arches her brows. "Or better yet," she caresses the edge of the wine glass, with her finger, "my stepson..."

She barely swipes Alexander away, by caressing the wine glass rim. Her finger gets too close each time...

She shrugs. "Maybe if he were older. MAID! MORE WINE!"

Alexander would cover his ears, if he weren't hanging for dear life from his stepmother's wine glass. Everything is so much louder when he's smaller...and he's not even the one with the hangover...


	6. Chapter 6

It's another day, in the royal court of Macedonia. Alas, there seem to be more snakes in here, than before...

Even more so, there's a great statue of Dionysus, overlooking all in the court. That...might get old, after a while...

There are also more Baracus (i.e. panther) statues than before. The Baracus, after all, was VERY dear to Dionysus...as was the female pussy.

Clad in a toga, Olympias Queen attends to her husband's throne. She hoists herself into it...and waits for her first complaining subjects to arrive.

The servants accommodate for her. They bring her a foot rest, and some more wine. They hang a snake around her neck.

As small as a mite, her stepson hangs in a fragile spot from his stepmother's low-cut. She is VERY hot, when she's this big. He'd never tell her that, of course. But then, he'd be lying, if he said he didn't want to...

Proud as a queen, Olympias smiles, and adjusts her top. She inadvertently causes her stepson distress, as he struggles to stay balanced atop a ridge that's being adjusted by a great titaness's fingers. Alexander shouldn't feel so shamed; it was probably the same way for Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, when their mother cut them out of their father's esophagus...

When she's done, Alexander pants. He's not so sure how much longer he can handle this...as much as he'd love to...

Nearby, a leviathan's tail flicks. To Alexander, it's huge. It's like Apollo's python. Alas, Alexander is PRETTY sure that Apollo himself is bigger... But then, it's expected that he was smaller than the python he once slew...

He looks the other way. As he dreads, the snake's head hangs from the other side of his stepmother's neck. She hangs, flicking her tongue.

Alexander hangs, and trembles. She must sense this...

The viper turns her pits...and senses prey. She bares her fangs. She slithers forward...towards Alexander...

Like a girl, Alexander heaves a breath, and screams like a girl...

Outside, in the streets, trumpets blare. The Queen is about to have a VERY special guest...

Olympias inadvertently saves her stepson, with two fingers. With them forked, she pushes up the viper's head, towards a flat surface. As if programmed to, the viper slithers up onto it, and crawls away. With him gone, the Queen stands, and better-prepares herself, for her guest's arrival...

Alexander isn't so sure that he's ready for this. If his cliffhanger was fragile now, his stepmother constantly adjusting her toga's making it SO much worse. Her fingers are everywhere...and this ridge won't stop moving up and down...

On the upside, her boobs keep getting bigger and smaller, depending on where she adjusts it. Even better, when he finally has to fall...and he does...he falls right between her boobs. Between them, he barely manages to hang on, as he eases towards where her hooters meet...

From outside, a team of six eunuchs climb up the front steps to the palace. They strain, with emasculated strength, as they carry a man on a platter.

Atop the platter, the Emperor of Persia lies. Meet Artaxerxes III. In the Near East, many Aryan nations owe him taxes...as do a lot of less-grateful non-Aryan nations... But then, even the Aryan ones have shit to complain about, sometimes...

Within the pillars of the royal court, they set the platter down, and help their king up. He thanks them, pays them each a few coins, and abandons his "raft." His eunuchs gladly take it away, for him.

Olympias sees to it that the eunuchs get refreshed. As she adjusts herself for that hunking man they've just brought to her, she must agree that the eunuchs deserve the VERY best of care...

Emperor Artaxerxes takes her ringed hand, and kisses all over it. He, for one, is VERY glad to see a woman on the throne of Macedonia...

"You're very kind," Olympias tells him. "But I'm not the high queen of this nation. I am merely my husband's regent."

He arches his brows. "You're unusually humble to say so. A lot of women in your sandals would bluff, about being the high queen."

"I did think about it... But then I changed my mind. You're a noble man, Artaxerxes. I don't know if I could live with myself, if I ever ripped you off, and got caught."

"It's just as well that you do. As long as I'm in your country, I can't enforce my own country's laws."

"I assure you, I mean to be no such monarch. Now," she takes him by the arm, and leads him around. "What do you wish me?"

Naturally, she takes Emperor Artaxerxes on a long walk, all over the palace grounds. Neither one of them are aware that the conversation is completely private...aside from a pair of bodyguards, that're always within command's reach, at all times.

Having fallen, Alexander now hangs from his stepmother's golden garter. He's relieved that at least her garter isn't a snake, too. But then, it's just as well, that it is. He mistook it for one, when he first landed in it.

"I'm really glad you came out here, Artaxerxes," Olympias says, fixing several laurel leaves in her hair. "My husband's gone a lot. If some of my subjects didn't know any better, they'd say that he doesn't want to rule my country."

"Can't say I understand. Most of the men in my patriline are power-hungry. Either way, I worry about you, a woman, alone on the throne. I don't mean to insult your influence, but... In other societies, a woman on the throne is a sore temptation, by rebellions, for sedition."

She slows, in her walk. Inadvertently, she gives her tiny stepson an easier time...by not making him more seasick, as she rides her garter.

"I," she brushes the side of her face, with her finger, "think I know where this is going. And," she looks up to him, "if I thought you were a cruel man, I'd refuse you."

"Even if you did, it isn't just me who thinks it's wise. I'm pretty sure my heirs would do the same thing...without your permission."

"Macedonia is strong. And I have an army at my command. I'm never sure how happy they are about having a female commander-in-chief, but... I can't really say I have a good reputation in this country. I love Dionysus...but then, I know very few women, noble or otherwise, who don't."

"You seem to have an affinity for snakes, too." Politely, Artaxerxes brushes a baby viper off his shoulder. "If I thought snakes alone would protect you from sedition, I wouldn't ask you to do this."

"Understandable, why you don't. And it's just as well that you do this. My husband is one thing..." She scratches her own thigh, inadvertently smothering her tiny stepson a few times. "But it seems that my stepson, too...has somehow, run off. I think I might know why... And yet, I almost hesitate to lay the blame on my snakes."

Alexander waits for a moment to pass...for his giant stepmother to stop repeatedly smothering him with her huge scratching fingers. When she does, he scoffs. He seriously can't believe that his stepmother has to ASK him why he'd run away, to know that it's the snakes...

"Alexander," Artaxerxes recounts. "I've been told about him, back in Susa." He smiles down upon the Queen. "Are you SURE you're not his birth mother? You act like it, sometimes...from what I've heard."

She looks up at him, and smiles. "Do I really make THAT much news, where you come from?!" She fixes her hair, again. "I'm almost flattered!"

"Well, don't lap up too much of it. You're not universally liked for it...just to warn you."

"Consider me warned. I'll make it a point NEVER to show my face in Susa."

"Uh... Actually, I was kind of hoping that," he scratches his face. "I was hoping that because I'm going to be ruling your country soon...that perhaps you'd consider, maybe..." He shrugs. "Spending a few days, in Susa, among my fellow royals...and a few subjects of my picking?"

Still on her garter, Alexander gasps, at the thought of this. Has the Persian Emperor come all the way from his comfy capital in Sousa, just to steal his stepmother from his father?!

But then... Alexander shouldn't be TOO ungrateful. Maybe she'll take the snakes with her. Maybe she'll learn how to charm cobras, while living in Persia...

"I'm flattered," she says, "that you'd want to introduce me to your family BEFORE marrying me!"

They share a laugh. Alexander isn't sure he thinks that's funny...

"I will consider your offer, Artaxerxes. It's very sweet. I'll have to appoint a majordomo, but... With luck, there are some good people in Macedonia who won't oppress the public in my absence."

He chuckles. "We're fucking royals, Olympias. They will ALWAYS accuse us of oppressing."

"Of course? Who am I, to ever look for yang in the public opinion of government?"

They laugh. In her garter, Alexander only shakes his head. His stepmother could do SO much better in love, than Artaxerxes. But then, she could also do so much better in self-management...if she were ever to ask for her stepson's opinion. Alexander can't imagine why she doesn't. Women like Olympias are all ABOUT opinions... Mainly their own, but... You'd expect them to have role models whose opinions they'd revere just as much...


	7. Chapter 7

This is the Heraklion Library. It's been serving Macedonian nobles for a very long time, now. Legend has it that Minos came here to look up his noblewomen's togas.

Olympias Queen is quite excited about her pending quest to Persia. So, in response, she comes here to check up on Persia...best she can, since she can't exactly teleport to Susa and do a reconnaissance mission. First of all, it's too far. Second of all, she's a celebrity; she'd stick out like a sore thumb. Third of all, a lot of Persians hate the Greeks; they'd have a devil of a time assassinating her, and winning a potential war between the countries before it even began.

And with Alexander gone, it'd be easy to decapitate Greece. There'd be a civil war, no doubt, over who should be the next king of Greece; one that could potentially destroy Greece, and make it a Persian province for the long haul...

Ah, the books of the library... Olympias spent SO much time here, as a girl. She didn't memorize every book...but she came close. Alas, if only there wasn't so much other information out there that these books are just too slow, and not to mention too dusty, to keep up with...

Still less than a thousandth his old size, Alexander clings to a golden garter around his stepmother's thigh. He can see through her toga, as if it were a translucent curtain.

Out there, there are noblewomen. They're in togas. They all look fine. Alexander still can't believe he's noticing. He wasn't supposed to go through puberty for another... Actually, he was kind of hoping he'd NEVER go through it.

There aren't very many books about Persia on the shelves. It takes Olympias a while to find them. (In reality, she's got this library memorized. It's just that...she can't help but go back, and tempt herself with some memories of her library-frequenting past. Also, it's been a while. The books aren't stacked the same as they were when she was a girl...with a few stubborn exceptions...) Based on the dust, too, it seems that few people ever shop here as much as Olympias is about to. Even so, she takes the thickest book there is on the shelf.

She finds a table, and drops the book on the table. It makes thunder, as it lands.

From the desk, the librarian gives Olympias an evil stare. Olympias freezes, and waves apologetically. The librarian only scoffs, and returns to his work. He would expect the queen of Greece, of all people, to have perfect discipline in a library...where SO many academy students still don't...

Alexander's just glad he wasn't on the table when she dropped it. At his size, he would've been squashed like a bug.

The book's got a lock on it. The key hangs from the binder. With the key, Olympias digs into the lock, and turns it. Pages later, she's figuratively drowning in a nourishing flood of information/vague memories of Persian trivia.

She feels like a plant in the Kalahari Desert, right before the Okavango Delta floods, and turns everything green that was once, very recently, red and brown and dry... Alas, if only most Greek sailors were brave enough to sail that far around Africa...

Alexander just HATES how fast his stepmother flips through those pages. But then, he'd by lying if he said he couldn't relate...

From where he is, he scales her thighs. He climbs the front of her toga, from the inside. He beholds her navel...but barely resists the temptation to spelunk into it.

He tunnels up, into her boobs...and comes out between them. At last, he can see what his stepmother's reading. He learns it just as quickly as she does...

There are pages concerning the Persian conquests in Bactria and Sogdia. There's even an artist's rendition of a Bactrian (i.e. two-humped) camel all across one page...

She turns the page. There's a mosaic impression, on the next page, of a very beautiful Bactrian/Sogdian woman...who bears the likeness of Rosario Dawson. At this, Alexander stares, in awe and inspiration. She is VERY gorgeous...

Between his stepmother's breasts, his cock hardens. Inadvertently, he helps it along.

High above, his stepmother raises her brows. And, she grins. She fluffs up her breasts, drowning her stepson in them. She stands, and attends to herself in the ladies' cesspit.

From the crevasse of her boobs, she fetches her stepson. She rolls him around in her hand. This sickens him a bit...but not as much as it could. Never has he found his stepmother more overwhelming...or scary.

At his size, she owns black mambas that have been like the leviathans of his nightmares to him. Even so, those memories are really bad jokes, in contrast to how terrified of his giantess stepmother Alexander feels now.

But then, it's just a good thing his stepmother bears the likeness of Angelina Jolie... Big lips and all... (And a laurel wreath never looked better on anyone, BTW...)

"Hello, stepson," she says, flapping her hair. Her voice thunders across her hand, as Alexander lies trapped in it. "Have the pressures of being a future king of Greece finally gotten through to your low self-esteem?" She chuckles. "I shouldn't be so critical, though. I'd just be the pot calling the kettle black."

Alexander scoffs. "Something tells me you didn't get shrunk, too."

She looks down upon him, and raises her brows...

He studies her. "Wait... You did?!"

She only stares down, and smiles down upon her tiny stepson. Alexander isn't sure if he likes the expression on her face... Although, he'd be lying if he said that part of him wasn't enjoying this...


End file.
